Shock of War

“I don’t know if we could find that kind of materiel,” said Mara. “We tried to get antitank missiles to use against bunkers.” She shook her head. “I don’t think we could find more than a half-dozen antitank missiles from Syria, or even Iran. Not even if we paid through the nose.”

Lucas rolled the can across the desk, catching it with his right hand, then sending it back across to his left.

“You know, bottom line here, Peter,” said Grease, “the Vietnamese don’t have a chance in hell. They’re going to be overrun in a week’s time. We’d be better off shoring up Thailand.”

“How do you do that once Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia are gone?” asked Mara. “They won’t stand a chance.”

“Well, that’s your answer right there,” said Grease, getting up. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

“So, what now?” Mara asked after Greene had left. “For me.”

“Play it by ear.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Let’s see what shakes out. Officers get outed all the time, Mara. It’s not the end of the world. Focus on the job — there’s plenty to do. You’re still with Josh?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, surprised at the question.

“With protective services. The marshals or whatever.”

“I came down to D.C. with them, yes. They got us a hotel in Alexandria.”

“You can let them take it from here.” Lucas picked up his soda can and put it in the middle of the desk. He started to lean back, in his chair, then almost sprung forward. Mara pictured a thought developing in his head, physically prodding him. “You’re not sweet on him, are you Mara?”

“Sweet?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“My job was to get him here.”

“Yeah, but… you guys aren’t… you know?”

“Would that be any business of yours if I was?”

“I, uh… I wouldn’t think he’d be your type.”

“Why?” Mara shot back. “Too smart for me?”

Mara could feel her ears starting to warm with the blood rising to them. She got up to go.

“Hey, listen, seriously,” said Lucas. “The marshal service has it from here. You need a place, right? In D.C.”

“I’ll get a place.”

“Don’t be like that. Take one of the Tysons Corner apartments. Kevin can work that up for you. Go talk to him.”

“Smith?”

“Yeah, he’s handling that sort of stuff these days.”

What a comedown, she thought. He had once been one of the agency’s top people in Europe.

God, was that her fate?

No — her career in the field hadn’t been a tenth as long as his.

“Mara?”

“I’ll go see him. Thanks.”

7

On the border of China and Vietnam

They didn’t stay to see the rest of the show.

“We shouldn’t run,” said Zeus.

But they did run, first to the fence and then on the other side, racing to the shadows of the trees and brush beyond the camp perimeter. They ran as quickly as they could, stumbling along the uneven ground. Floodlights came on, augmenting the red glow of the fire behind them. The lights showed where the sentry posts were — four of them, all along the fence on the Vietnamese side of the border.

Zeus headed west, continuing past the fenceline as it turned. Crashing through the fronds and branches of the low brush, he came to a thicket of trees, five trunks growing from a single hump, a fist of wood jutting from the ground. He slipped as he veered around it to the left. He grabbed one of the trees and spun down, landing on his butt. He collapsed backward, spent but exhilarated — happy and triumphant, as if he’d just accomplished a Herculean task.

And he had.

They had.

Christian collapsed next to him. “God, we’re lucky.”

“Damn straight,” agreed Zeus.

“I thought we’d be blown up, too. Did you see how far the blast threw us?”

“It didn’t throw us.”

“Hell, yeah, it did. Ten feet at least. Against the fence.”

Zeus blinked. He had no memory of that. Had it thrown them?

No.

“Look at that goddamn fire,” said Christian. He got to his feet as a fireball rose in the air. The ground shook.

Zeus took hold of the tree trunk and pulled himself up.

“Shit,” he said.

“Hot damn!” yelled Christian. He started to laugh. “Hot damn!”

“Ssssssh,” said Zeus. But he laughed, too.

They were lucky. Very, very lucky.

And now they had to get back.

Silently, without another word to each other, they started walking.

* * *

They walked for what they reckoned was a little more than an hour — both of their watches had stopped, Zeus’s because the crystal had been shattered, Christian’s for some unknown reason. The clouds parted and the moon moved over them as they walked, showing the way. The Chinese had undoubtedly sent patrols to find the saboteurs; they could hear occasional gunfire in the distance. But the patrols had apparently gone, understandably, in the direction they thought the attackers had traveled, directly across the border.

Zeus and Christian, by contrast, were walking farther into China, though they didn’t realize it. They came to a hard-packed dirt road and began following it southward until it ended abruptly in a bulldozed berm. They got their bearings with some difficulty, moving first east and then southward, walking for a few more minutes before Christian spotted a row of cement fence posts on a hill about forty yards ahead. The hill had been stripped of trees; their carcasses lay among the weeds.

“We’re still in China,” said Christian dejectedly. “I thought we were in Vietnam.”

“We can get through here,” said Zeus.

“There’s barbed wire on top.”

“Razor wire.”

“That makes a big difference,” said Christian sarcastically.

It did — it made it harder, the wire more likely to slice them into pieces. The bottom of the fence was buried in the ground. And there was a second fence farther down the hill, which looked to be configured exactly the same.

“We ain’t getting across here,” said Christian. He put his hands against the wire. His whole body drooped.

“There’ll be an easier place,” said Zeus. “Come on.”